Seasons Come, Season Go
by VerityFrancesB
Summary: Another one shot series, For Morgan.
1. Chapter 1

Seasons come and seasons go, that's what they say anyway. But it not necessarily true. Yes, the seasons change but you can sometimes still feel the warmth of the summer sun in the deepest of winter; still feel the cleansing spring showers in the arid heat of summer. Sometimes it's not what is happening outside that matters, it is what's happening inside, inside ones head, inside ones safe little bubble that has been created for protection.

However, sometimes the season mirror perfectly what is happening around you, it rains when you cry, its sunny when you laugh the technical term being pathetic fallacy, as far as I recall.

Here is another series of one shots, based on the seasons. This is for Morgan who asked so nicely, and who deserves anything she asks for.

V!

xox


	2. Spring has Sprung

Spring Has Sprung

* * *

I remember looking at him one day and just knowing that I was hopelessly in love with him. Hopelessly being the operative word, because I knew, or I thought I knew, that we would always stay the same, partners with a mutual respect and attraction for each other. I forget which one of us broke first, but before I knew it, I was in love and then I ran, ran from my feelings and I remember thinking that nobody would quiet match up, nobody would fit in my arms as well; no body would leave my lips tingling quite as much as he did.

Our whole relationship has been based on the changes, the changes that we have all made. It felt so natural that it shifted towards lovers, like the changes that happen at the end of seasons. We felt so young and carefree, but we weren't. I remember the day I left him; it is burnt onto my memory.

* * *

_He lay sleeping, one arm carelessly thrown over his head, giving the impression of someone who hadn't a care in the world. They had worn each other out the previous night, dinner then dancing, then what they did best; making love, mainly because Jen knew that this was going to happen, knew that this morning she was going to walk out of his life. She folded the letter that she had stayed up all night composing, placed it in the envelope and put it in his pocket, knowing he would find it after she left. She sat gently on the side of the bed and stroked his cheek. _

"_I love you." She whispered, praying that he would hear, that he would wake up and stop her leaving, she bent down and kissed his temple, earning herself a small smile from his sleep. She picked up her bag and opened the door of their room. She placed her bag in the corridor and took one last look at him, memorizing his image, not knowing when or if she was going to see him again. He stirred and woke, glancing around to find her standing in the doorway._

"_Where are you going?" He asked his voice still thick with sleep. She gave him a small smile._

"_I'm just going out," She replied, "I'll be seeing you." He smiled at her use of the song they danced to the night before and lay his head back down, content with her answer._

"_Don't be long." He murmured. _

* * *

I felt terrible leaving and tears ran down my face as I made my way out of Paris. But I had got over it, or so I thought, but the sight of him, standing in MTAC and my predecessor's voice echoing in my mind, _he's your problem now, Director, _made my heart stop, if only for a second, just like I knew it would. I had to fight with myself that morning to actually go to work. I didn't know how he was going to react.

But it shifted again, we moved, almost effortlessly sometimes, other times not so, from partners to lovers to strangers to friends. It was an odd way round but we have never taken much notice of rules, either of us.

I remember the day that it all changed, I should, it wasn't that long ago; it was a spring day, the kind of day that a promise of a hot summer. The sky was blue, with only the minutest amount of grey cloud hovering overhead, the breeze was warm, it lifted my hair and cooled the back of my neck.

* * *

_The mug that was held in front of her face was full of, if she knew him as well as she thought, the strongest coffee known to man. She raised her eyes to the man that proffered the mug and raised her eyebrows. _

"_Let's go for a walk." He said, his voice soothing whatever was currently occupying her mind. She took the coffee with the feeling that she was agreeing to something far more than a walk. The minute they stepped outside, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and lifting her face to the spring sunshine that had fought its way through the clouds. His hand found hers, as it did so often now, whenever they were alone, it felt so natural that neither of them had commented on it. She gave it a quick squeeze, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb. _

"_I'm sorry." She blurted out and he automatically answered._

"_Don't apologize, it's a sign of weakness…wait, what are you apologizing for?" He asked, turning her around to face him, gripping her arms. She took a deep breath, thinking that it was now or never. _

"_For leaving the way I did," She said, "Hell, for leaving at all." She wriggled out of his grasp, not wanting to hear him simply shrug off her apology, but his hand caught her wrist and twirled her round, staring at her, searching her face for any hint that she was lying, that she wasn't really sorry. When none was found, he pulled her closer to him and placed his lips over hers, not trusting himself to speak. He pulled away and looked down at her, a small tear was running down her cheek which he brushed away with his thumb, finally finding his voice._

"_It's ok." He said, pulling her into a bone crushing hug, inhaling her scent, the scent he had missed for far too long, the scent, that if he had anything to do with it, would be surrounding him for the rest of his life. _

* * *

Spring is a time of transition, a time for new beginnings, and that is what I have now, a new beginning, to right all the wrongs that I have done, to make him see that I love him again and this time not run.

* * *

_I'll Be Seeing You is a one of my all time favorites songs by Billie Holiday, I have made reference to it before. _

_V!  
xox_


	3. Summertime

And the Living Is Easy

* * *

The sun streamed through the window, even this last in the afternoon the heat was still unbearable. The heat wave that had gripped the city for the past two weeks still showed no sign of relenting. The only good thing about it was the considerably less amount of clothing that went with the oppressive heat.

"It's melting on me." The sleepy voice that accompanied the naked body underneath him drew his attention to the spoon of quickly melting ice cream, which was hovering between the tub and his mouth. He chuckled as he place the spoon back in the tub and leant down, running his tongue over the offending drip of melted ice cream, earning himself a contented sigh as he removed the sticky substance off the hollow of her back. He ran his tongue up her spine, not wanting to relinquish the hold her had over her just yet, making her wriggle closer to him. She flipped herself over and pulled his face down to meet hers. She ran her tongue over his lips.

"Vanilla…I thought I told you to get chocolate." He chuckled again and returned to the ice cream. "Urgh…I am so hot, why can't it cool down?" She complained. He grinned down at her, a plan formulating in his mind. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What are you plotting?" She questioned, the suspicion clear in her voice, "that look worries me."

"What look?" He asked as he slipped off the bed and waked towards the bedroom door, wrapping a towel around his waist.

"That look," She said, "where are you going?" She asked, his answer was a suggestive raise of his eyebrows and a wink.

Her questioning calls followed him down the stairs and he grinned to himself as he ignored them. When he returned to her bedroom, she was wrapped in the sheet, sitting crossed legged in the middle of the bed, arms crossed and glaring at him.

"What have you done?" She accused.

"Nothing…yet." He answered, turning away as she leant to the side trying to see what he held behind his back. She didn't need to try because he bought it out with a flourish.

"Ta-da." On his face was a very pleased grin and in his hands was her ice bucket and if the condensation running down the sides was anything to go by, it was filled with ice.

"And what, pray tell, do you propose we do with that?" She asked, cocking her head to one side, her face trying to glare but the amusement in her eyes giving her away. He placed the bucket on the bedside table and dropped the towel from around his waist. Crawling back onto the bed, he pushed her shoulders gently until she was lying down, his body covering but not quite touching hers. He lowered his mouth to her neck, her sharp intake of breath telling him that she hadn't seen him place the ice cube into his mouth. Her fingers instinctively wound into his hair. She let go as he moved lower, running the ice cube over her nipples, feeling them pebble against his mouth, loving the way her body arched against his.

He reached into the ice bucket and pulled out another ice cube, this time using his hands to run it over her stomach, wanting to watch her lower lip catch in her teeth, wanting to watch the way the water ran over her skin, the goose bumps that followed the path the ice cube took, the shivers that ran through her body as he blew on the trails of ice water.

He grabbed another ice cube, running it down the length of her leg and back up again, licking at the water that ran between her thighs. He traced patterns on her stomach, his mouth following the ice, blowing on the rapidly cooling skin.

He plunged his hand into the ice bucket, soaking it in ice water. He ran it down the outside of her leg, pulling under her knee to gain access to the smooth skin of her inner thighs, smirking down at her gasp as his cold fingers slipped into her, loving the way her hands gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into the skin almost painfully.

As he removed his hand and silenced her moan with a kiss, positioning himself on top of her, loving the way she instinctively wrapped her legs around him and pulled him into her, he knew he was well and truly lost, lost in the way she breathed his name, the way her body felt moving under his, but it was all to easy to get lost, she made it all to easy. Truth be told, as he felt her muscles clench around him and he breathed her name in release, he wasn't even sure he wanted to be found.

* * *

_V!_

_xox _


	4. AutumnFall

"_If winter is slumber and spring is birth, and summer is life, then autumn rounds out to be reflection. It's a time of year when the leaves are down and the harvest is in and the perennials are gone. Mother Earth just closed up the drapes on another year and it's time to reflect on what's come before." – Mitchell Burgess._

* * *

I have never been one to sit and reflect on my life and the choices that I have made, I've been one to sit and fester but not reflect. But her being back in my life has forced me to make many changes and I find myself doing things that I would never have expected to be doing again, like sleeping with my arms round a warm body or watching someone sleep. For christ sake, I don't watch people sleep, but I find myself doing it. The strangest thing about it is that the choices that I make, don't just affect me, they affect someone else now.

One time I rushed into a case, all guns blazing, without thinking and had gotten myself shot in the shoulder. I have never seen her so angry as when she stood at the foot of my hospital bed. Her hands clenched by her sides, to stop her self from strangling me.

"How could you?" She whispered, almost as if she didn't trust herself to speak.

"How could I what?" I had answered, rather blasé, which had irritated her even more.

"You could have died." She replied, her voice still low. It always worried me when she was quiet. Shouting I could deal with but when she got quiet was when I knew I was in real trouble.

"I could have died a lot of times, it goes with the job Jen." I answered, wanting to see how far I could push her, the sadistic part of me wanting to see how much she hurt. Evidently she didn't want to play my game because she slapped me, hard, round the face.

"But now you would have left me." She spat and whirled around, storming out. The silence in the room after she left, and the stinging hand print of my cheek, gave me the perfect opportunity to think. Christ I had been an idiot. Having Jen back in my life shouldn't stop me from doing my job, but it should make me think things through properly. I lifted the phone receiver and dialed the number that was etched into my memory. She hung up after the third ring. I didn't bother leaving a message. I didn't even need to bother to ring her because she came storming back in 10 minutes later as I was trying to ring again. She stared at me, her big green eyes wide. I stared back, trying to think of something to say. She was at my side suddenly, her hands on my face as if reassuring herself I was there.

"I thought…" She trailed off and I continued to stare at her, I have never been good with words, the words I want to say just never come out right. I took her hand and squeezed it, hoping that she would understand.

"It's ok." I said, moving to brush a stray tear that ran down her face. She was quicker, brushing it away furiously, as if showing any sign of weakness was beyond her. "Look at this." I said, gesturing down to her hand in mine. "They stay together ok?"

That was the first time in a long while that I realized that it wasn't just me anymore. It was me and her. I sit looking out over my garden, glass of bourbon in hand, my shoulder aching slightly from the damp, contemplating whether this is right for me, whether I am ready to give up my solitude for her. But when small hands wind around my waist and warm breath tickles my neck, I know there is nothing to contemplate. I may have had to make huge changes, but they were changes worth making. I cover her hands with mine, my fingers winding round to feel her pulse, loving the gentle thump of it beneath my skin and her lips of my neck.

"Look at that." I say, gesturing down to our entwined fingers, wondering if I will ever get bored of the sight.

"They're still together." She says, her voice gentle in my ear.

"Yes they are." I answer, pulling her round into my lap and kissing that mouth that I can never quite get enough of.

* * *

_V!_

_xox_


	5. Now is the winter of our discontent

_Now is the winter of our discontent - Richard III, Act 1, scene 1._

It hadn't been going well. True, the months to begin with were perfect, or as near to perfect that they would allow it to be. The first couple of months had been spent rediscovering their feelings for each other, rediscovering what the other enjoyed, both in bed and out. But after a while the gaps had begun to show, the cracks expanding, getting harder to hide until one day, one cold miserable day, they couldn't hide them anymore.

They didn't talk anymore, that's what angered her the most. They didn't even argue anymore, it was an uncomfortable silence that permeated through everything, became so loud that she couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm leaving." She pronounced, expecting less of a reaction than she got, expecting him to absently nod his head, his eyes glued as usual to the hull of whichever boat occupied the basement at the time. What she got was a glare, his blue eyes flashing in the semi darkness, because there was something in the way that she said it that made him realized that she wasn't just leaving for the evening, because they hadn't spent more than 3 nights away from each other for moths now.

"If that's what you want." He replied, anger dripping off his words, making it almost impossible for her to move from the step.

"No…but it's what _we _need." She answered. He shook his head and she saw his hands clench by his side. She cocked her head at him, trying to see what it was he so obviously wanted to say. She looked questioningly at him. He turned away from her and continued working on the boat. She let out a bitter laugh, wishing that once he would surprise her, and walked out of the basement, out of the front door, out of his home.

* * *

He had spent that last week going over that conversation, if you could call it a conversation, in his mind, trying desperately to recall anything that might have indicated that she was coming back. Which ever way he looked at it though, it was the same, she had gone, he had driven yet another woman out of his life, except this time her was determined to get her back.

She had spent the last week holed up in MTAC, trying to avoid the overwhelming presence of him that seemed to be lurking around every corner of NCIS. It was so unfair, she couldn't get away from it, it was even in the elevators and once she almost swore that he was standing too close behind her. It had taken all of her strength to leave him, and truth be told she didn't think she had enough to stop her from going back to him.

_Please God, no, _she silently willed the elevator not to stop on his floor, her prayer, however, was not answered and the carriage juddered to a halt, the doors opened and Jen braced herself. He stood there, foul look on his face, which turned to surprise and then anger again as he noticed her. She caught his internal debate about whether to step into the elevator or not and willed him to choose not. Someone upstairs was definitely against her today, because he stepped into the car and the door closed behind him.

"Director." He acknowledged.

"Agent Gibbs." She replied before lapsing into uncomfortable silence. The elevator stopped suddenly and the lights dimmed. She looked around at him and he continued to face the door, not looking at her. She refused to play his game so kept her mouth shut, determined not to ask what he was playing at. After a few minutes of silence, frustrated at his little game he wanted to play, she leant over to flick the switch but he grabbed her wrist, his middle finger unconsciously rubbing over her pulse point, till he caught himself and pulled sharply away from her. She crossed her arms in front of her, whether to protect herself or to look stern, she wasn't quite sure.

"Is there any reason why we are standing in the dark and in silence Jethro?" She asked her voice icy with irritation. He shot her a quick glare.

"Just…give me a minute will you?" He snapped, rubbing his hand over his face.

"A minute? For what? For you to have a quick midlife crisis in the elevators, or a quiet think? I don't have time for this, I have work to do Jethro." She moved towards the switch and once again he grabbed her wrist.

"God dammed it Jen!" The ferocity in his voice made her freeze for a second, before she wrenched her hand away from his distracting touch.

"What the hell do you think you are playing at Jethro?" She demanded, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him. He turned sharply towards her.

"Come home Jen." It wasn't a request. She stared at him for a few seconds, searching his blue eyes for something to let her deny him. She broke eye contact and gently shook her head, automatically reaching out comfort to him before realizing and pulling her hand back.

"I can't Jethro." She replied quietly, flicking the switch, causing them to both stumble slightly at the sudden unexpected movement. Jen willed the tears to stay as the elevators rode to their destination and only when she exited and gave him a long look, did she blinked the tears out only to angrily swipe them away.

* * *

_You tried, _he told himself. _It wasn't enough, _said his other half, _you didn't try hard enough. One demand is not going to make her come running back. _He rubbed his temples with one hand, the other clenching around the comforting caffeine fix in his hand. He walked into Abby's lab, bracing himself for whichever tangent she was going to go off on this time.

"Gibbs!" His arms were suddenly full of bouncing Abby.

"Abs?" He detached himself from the death grip she had around his neck and looked at her. She searched his face and sighed.

"Honestly Gibbs, this is getting ridiculous." She punched him on the shoulder. "You are both miserable and neither of you will do anything about it. Man up, Boss man and sort it out!" She poked him in the forehead and twirled away from him, her pigtails bouncing.

"Abby..." He began, only to be stopped by Abby's finger against his lips.

"No, Gibbs, no more talking until you sort it out, a angry you is bad enough, I can't deal with an angry Director as well." She pushed him out of her lab and waved cheerily as the door slid shut.

_I could get you fired, _he signed at her through the door. She stuck her tongue out him.

_Yeah, but you wouldn't, _she signed back, _Cause you know I'm right,_ she spun around, away from him.

* * *

Jen paced her office, glass of bourbon in one hand, the other clenching at her side. This was getting stupid; she was feeling like a love sick teenager. She couldn't decide if she wanted to go back to him or if she wanted a chance to stand on her own. She had had a chance before, and enjoyed it to an extent but being with him had made everything complete. On the other hand, going back to him would be admitting defeat, something which her stubborness rarely let her do. She stopped pacing and drained her glass; she needed all the courage she could get because she had made up her mind.

* * *

He froze, sanding block in his hand, straining to hear any other noises from upstairs. The front door slammed and the basement steps creaked. He recognized the legs in an instant and resisted meeting her halfway. She paused on the bend of the stairs and looked at him. He looked back. She broke eye contact first, holding up a bag of take out.

"Hungry?" She asked.

"Starving." He replied.

"Good, there's lots here." She began unloading the bag.

"You staying?" He asked, she couldn't miss the hope in his voice and knew he wasn't just talking about staying for dinner.

"I'm staying." She replied, letting herself be pulled into a kiss.

"Good." He murmured against her lips.

_Journeys end in lovers meeting – Twelfth Night, Act 2, scene 3._

* * *

_Seasons is over now, hope you enjoyed it._

_V!_

_xox_


End file.
